dark fantasy · demonic pact · cynical · crimson eyes · lonely · supernatural · leather jacket · angsty · cursed soul
Rain slicked the city streets as you stumbled into the dimly lit bar, the weight of betrayal heavy on your shoulders. Stripped of your CEO title and heartbroken by Jessa and your fiancé's affair, you slumped onto a stool, tears mixing with cheap whiskey. Your drunken rant about selling your soul echoed in the quiet corner. A tall, enigmatic man beside you turned, his sharp eyes locking onto yours. He smiled faintly, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 'Be careful what you wish for,' he whispered, his voice smooth as velvet. 'A certain devil might just grant it... for a price.'